Page 41 of Enemy Wolf

“No! I’m not a freaking werewolf!”

He threw his head back and laughed. I joined in, even though I was the butt of the joke.

It was impossible not to. I was having the time of my life with him.

Chapter 15

Orson

After Shiloh’s warpaint incident, we cooked the pheasant and ate with a salad she’d gathered and prepared. All the while, we talked and teased each other. Her smiles and laughter were like rewards that I’d gotten greedy for. I wanted them again and again.

Talking to her was easier than any other person I’d ever met, even my packmates. I thought only the male werewolves I was closest to, had the most in common with, were worth talking to. How wrong I was.

This hilarious, smart, gorgeous witch had my wolf in a locked collar to which only she held the chain. He was annoyed that I hadn’t kissed her or made any effort to please her since the full moon. The opportunistic bastard waited until my guard was down before he kissed her himself. Licking her face like a damn puppy.

He had yelped with pain because of how hard I yanked back control. It was well after the full moon, so he couldn’t wrestle with me for it now. I shouldn’t have let him have so much control to begin with, but Shiloh was scratching us so good. My animal would have eaten out of her hand, and I would’ve been on all fours right next to him.

After lunch, we packed up, smothered the fire, and kept heading up the mountain. By my estimate, we’d hit the first peak tomorrow by about mid-day.

With the way Shiloh had wrapped around me on the back of my bike though, I was tempted to do laps around the mountain and extend this trip by a week, if not more. Anything for more time with my witch, more opportunities to collect my trophies of her laughs and smiles.

The ride got bumpier the higher in elevation we went. No set of wheels had touched this terrain in a long time, if ever. This was pure, uncharted wilderness. The air also got colder, thinner. I felt Shiloh’s strained breaths in my ear, felt the shivering in her fingers, and my protective instincts roared out to keep her safe from the elements.

“Put your hands under my jacket,” I yelled over the engine. “It’ll keep you warmer.”

The weight of her hands lifted away, and I almost jumped out of my seat when icy fingers brushed over my ribs.

She had gone under my jacket and shirt.

“Sorry!” Shiloh yelled. “But we’ll both end up warmer this way.”

Sweet moon, she had absolutely no reason to be sorry. I’d been craving her touch for so long, I would take anything I got, icicle fingers or not.

Shiloh’s torso pressed flush to my back, the side of her face to my shoulder, and her legs cradling mine. She was still shivering, and I brought one of my hands to hers on my stomach.

“We’re coming to a good stopping point soon. Then we can warm up properly.”

She lifted her head and I heard the smile in her voice as she spoke in my ear. “Sounds like you’re insinuating something.”

I stole a quick, confused glance over my shoulder. “What? Building a fire?”

Her forehead dropped to the back of my neck, and fuck me, I liked that contact too. “Nevermind, it’s nothing.”

At dusk, we reached our stopping point, which wasn’t so much a cave as it was a sizable indent in the side of a ridge. In any case, it would protect us from the elements to some degree.

I got off the bike, leaving it turned on, and told Shiloh to stay on it as I removed my jacket for her to wear.

“Scoot up to my seat, it’ll warm you.” I secured the jacket around her shoulders. “Just sit tight while I get a fire ready.”

Shiloh scoffed and put her arms through the holes of my jacket as she slid down from the bike. She kept eye contact with me the whole time, lifting her chin the moment her shoes hit the ground. “I’m not that fragile, Orson. And I don’t ‘sit tight’ while others do the work.”

She walked off and all I could do was stare.

Did the pretty witch listen to me? No.

Did she turn me the hell on? Absolutely yes.

“By all means, go ahead and build the fire,” she said.

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